


Why is your hair longer than usual

by MartinChristopher



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breakfast, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 21:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8261521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartinChristopher/pseuds/MartinChristopher
Summary: Sherlock and John are having breakfast.And Sherlock is asking himself, why John's hair is longer than usualAnd John just tells the truth after Sherlock ask.He won't regret his question. Just a little icing on the cake for in between - for you from me.





	

_**\- Sunday, February/21 – 2016, London, 221B Baker Street, living room -** _

The London winter sun shone through the huge windows into one of the flats in 221B Baker Street.  
The two men were having breakfast, a thing, you didn’t see that often, a thing you didn’t expect, if you know these two men.  
Normally the taller one of them rejects eating very often, while the smaller one loved food as much as he loved jam, tea, sleep ins and his jumpers.  
But today, both of them were sitting at the table in the living room and were eating breakfast. Another thing, you might not expect – space to eat at that table full of newspapers, mobile phones, laptops, chargers, notes, books. But at that table, you were more able to eat than at the one in the kitchen, with all the test tubes, bottles, chemical glasses, a microscope, a Bunsen burner and foul-looking body parts.

The taller one, Sherlock Holmes, was sitting at the table with his dark blue dressing gown, a grey T-shirt, a dark blue pajama pants and bare feet. He was eating cereals and a sandwich with cheese; while the smaller one, Dr. John Watson, was eating his jam sandwiches, in a black T-shirt and some loosely checkered boxer shorts.  
Sherlock was drinking coffee.  
John was sipping at his black tea, with one milk and one piece of sugar.  
During their breakfast, John was reading the newspaper, while Sherlock was spooning his cereals.

Sherlock looked up; he eyed John, with his T-shirt and his boxer shorts; and he eyed in detail John’s almost grey hair, which had become longer, with a fluffy swoosh.  
He was curious; John had always had short hair, and now he hadn’t been at the barber shop for quite a long time.  
“John, why is your hair longer than usual? Why haven’t you been in the barber shop in the last months?" Sherlock asked curiously.

John didn’t even look up from his newspaper, he just answered that question with a serious and dry voice, as if it would be totally normal, as if he would just tell him, that the sun is shining today.  
“So that you are able to pull and tug at my hair, while I’m fucking you senseless.”  
Sherlock’s spoon fell clanking into the bowl of cereals, and he needed to cough.  
“I beg your pardon?” Sherlock gasped for air.  
John looked up into two big silver eyes.   
The mouth hung open as well, Sherlock didn’t move, he was shocked.  
“Why should we dance around each other even longer?” John said, and smiled charmingly.

Sherlock blinked a few times.   
He swallowed.   
He eyed John again, and then he nodded.  
“So, let’s do it.” He said with a raised eyebrow.  
Now John was blinking a few times.  
“Beg your pardon?”  
“Let’s do it, you fucking me senseless, while I’m tugging and pulling at your hair. Why should we wait even longer, since we want to do this, since the first day we met?”

John eyed him.  
He dropped down his newspaper, shoved Sherlock’s bowl to the side as well as his cup of coffee.  
He stood up and grabbed Sherlock’s hand.  
“Breakfast’s over!”  
He pulled him out of his seat, didn’t give him a chance to struggle, and dragged him to the bedroom. 

Sherlock stumbled at John’s hand, and then he was pressed against his own bedroom door, with John’s lips on his own.  
And immediately, he cupped John’s face, ran his hands into the grey hair and kissed him back as passionately and horny as John kissed him.

Their tongues explored each other, they danced with each other, and then they fought with each other.  
They moaned into their kiss; Sherlock tugged at John’s hair, while John was grabbing Sherlock’s butt impatiently.  
He nibbled at Sherlock’s lip, sucked at it, and entangled Sherlock in a new french hot kiss.  
Sherlock moaned into the kiss.  
And John searched for the handle, to open the bedroom door. He found it, and pressed Sherlock through the open door.

John didn’t waste any time; he shoved Sherlock’s dressing gown from his shoulders and a few seconds later, they needed to break the kiss, so that John was able to pull Sherlock the grey T-shirt above the head.   
Sherlock looked at him with delighted black eyes; he raised his arms, while John was pulling the T-shirt off of him.  
“It’s about time for this.” Sherlock said with a deep and lustful voice, when the T-shirt sailed to the ground.  
John eyed Sherlock’s slightly muscly chest and the flat stomach; he ran his fingers across the heated naked skin, rubbed his thumbs across Sherlock’s nipples.  
“True. So please don’t waste any time, and pull off my T-shirt, you handsome genius.” John said hoarsely.  
“You didn’t need to ask me twice.” Sherlock moaned deeply.  
He already had goose bumps from John’s caressing, kissing and rubbing.

John raised his arms, helped Sherlock with the T-shirt, which sailed to the ground a few seconds later.  
John tugged at Sherlocks pajama pants, pulled them down, and while he pressed him to and into the bed, Sherlock shoved down John’s boxer briefs.   
And when they both hit the mattress, they hit it fully naked.  
John hovered above Sherlock, he supported his hands next to Sherlock’s head and bent down. He looked him in the eyes, and Sherlock’s eyes were as black as his own.

Their lips met again for a hot and passionate french kiss. The tongues danced and fought with each other; they explored each other – hungrily and desperately. They sucked at each others lips, licked with the tongue across them, and bit into them.   
And they both moaned over and over again.   
It wasn’t possible for both of them to stop the kissing. It was just too good, and they had just waited a few years too long. If they both would be honest, they could have done this after their first case, after the case with the bad cabbie.  
But instead of fucking each other, they had gone to bed after their dinner. 

When their lips broke apart again, they were swollen and rough.   
They breathed heavily.  
“Jesus, you’re a bloody awesome kisser.” John said out of breath.  
“And I’m sure you aren’t just a bloody awesome kisser, I’m also quite sure, that you’re a bloody awesome lover. So would you be so kind to fuck me senseless finally, so that I can tug and pull at your hair.” Sherlock said impatiently – he was out of breath as well.  
John grinned.  
“Don’t you like foreplay?”   
“Not today. We’ve had enough of foreplay the last years.” He said, and ran his hand through John’s hair. “Stop talking now.” He smiled, and captured his lips for the next french kiss, before John could begin to speak again. 

John moaned into the kiss, he rubbed his erection across Sherlock’s in pure relish.  
Sherlock bit into his lip. He gasped, had broken the kiss.  
They both tilted the head back and moaned in pleasure when John rubbed their erections against each other again.  
Sherlock’s fingernails scratched across John’s spine, and the other hand, opened blindly the bedside drawer. He fished the lube out of it, and dropped the bottle onto the sheets.  
And a second later, his finger clawed into John’s hair.  
“Hmmm, Sherlock, god. How... how do you want me to prepare you. What do you like?” He moaned, and bent down to Sherlock’s ear. “Do you want me to rim or fingering you. Or do you want me to do both.” He groaned hoarsely in Sherlock’s ear.  
Sherlock tugged at John’s hair, the other hand grabbed his buttock.   
“Since you’re so nice to ask. Then, god, please do both.” Sherlock moaned with anticipation.

John smiled, licked across his ear, down his jaw line; he sucked at his Adam’s Apple; kissed down across his upper body, and licked across the tip of Sherlock’s cock, which was covered with precum.   
Sherlock moaned and sighed loudly, and both hands were now tugging and pulling and running at and through John’s hair.   
The legs were already angled, and John spread them; he sucked for a brief moment at Sherlock’s balls, before his tongue licked across Sherlock’s puckering hole - with relish. He seemed to enjoy it as much as Sherlock.  
Sherlock moaned and sighed again loudly, over and over again, when John’s tongue licked across his entrance, and especially when he licks into his puckering hole.  
He grabbed John’s hair, tugged at it and pulled at it, and moaned his name over and over again. He was absolutely losing it.   
He needed to stop John, or he would reach his climax out of a sudden.   
John’s tongue was so skilled, that he had totally lost his self control. He wanted to stop John, but he couldn’t, and he didn’t want to stop him, to be honest.

But John seemed to have noticed it as well. He stopped, kissed Sherlock’s hole, and his inner thighs.  
He looked up with a smile, placed a soft kiss onto Sherlock’s right thigh and grabbed the lube.  
Sherlock took a few deep breathes, tried to calm down, before he would feel the next sensation. He was sure, that John was as skilled with his fingers as he was skilled with his tongue.  
Again a kiss on Sherlock’s thigh, before three fingers slid easily into Sherlock’s wet hole – the tongue had done, what most of his sexual partners had done with their fingers.  
“Oh god, John.” He moaned, and thrust with his hips forward to join John’s rhythm. “I told you, you’re a fantastic lover.” Sherlock sighed and purred with pleasure. 

John smiled, kissed still Sherlock’s soft and heated skin of the thigh, and he rubbed his fingers across Sherlock’s prostate.   
He enjoyed it really much, and he could hardly wait to fuck him.

Sherlock began to beg for more, for much more.  
“God, John, please – please fuck me.”  
“Just because you asked that nicely.” John said hoarsely.  
His fingers disappeared, which made Sherlock moan in disappointment.  
John grabbed the lube again.

And when he dropped the lube onto the mattress again, he settled down between Sherlock’s legs.   
Sherlock wrapped his legs immediately around John’s hips, pressed him close.  
And they both moaned loudly, when John’s cock slid into Sherlock’s wet, hot hole.  
They looked each other in the eyes, and John bent down, he kissed Sherlock’s lips softly.  
“God, you look gorgeous, with your open mouth, and your black eyes, and that look of pure pleasure and relish.” John moaned. “And it’s fucking hot, to hear your deep and dark voice moan like that.”  
Sherlocks eyes fluttered shut; he enjoyed John’s words, and the second soft kiss.   
When John began to thrust, he bit him softly into the lower lip – a thing John seemed to enjoy really much.

Sherlock’s hands stroked across John’s back – upwards to his hair, and when he had reached it, he tugged and pulled at it; he ran his hands through it wildly; he ran his hands through it softly; and he played with the strands, and then he tugged and pulled at it again, in pure relish.  
He had given up all his control, he had given up to make his mind work again – it was impossible – John really fucked him senseless.   
He joined John’s rhythm, who was thrusting into him softly and tenderly, and also highly intense and passionate. It was a mixture, that made Sherlock speechless. He could reach his orgasm and he could cum really hard, without a touch on his throbbing and leaking cock, if John would fuck him like that the whole time.

John moaned with relish, and in between, he sucked on Sherlock’s neck, on Sherlock’s Adam’s Apple and jawline, and made him love bites.  
His eyes fluttered open, he looked down to Sherlock, who opened his eyes as well – at the moment his fingers played with John’s grey strands.  
John smiled, licked his lips. He gasped, was out of breath, and he sweated- as well as Sherlock.  
He rubbed his nose across Sherlock’s, and smothered Sherlock’s next moan with a tender kiss.

And out of a sudden, during their intense, passionate, tender rhythm, they both reached their orgasm loudly and hard.  
Sherlock tugged at John’s hair.  
“John.”  
“Fuck Sherlock!”   
They slowed their movements down a bit.

“I hope this wasn’t the first and last time we had sex with each other.” Sherlock said out of breath, and looked up to John, who was still lying onto him.  
“Obviously not, Sherlock. We haven’t had a foreplay, I need to explore your body, and I need you to explore mine.” John said while gasping.  
“How long will this experiment last?”  
“Oh, it’s a lifelong experiment. I mean, our bodies will change in the next weeks, months, years,... and decades.” John winked with a big loving smile.

Sherlock looked up to him. He smiled a big loving and tender smile.  
Of course he had understood it.  
It was more than an experiment.  
It was a promise to be together for more than sex.  
It was a promise to be a couple for the next decades.

Just the two of them – against the rest of the world.


End file.
